Category: lottery

Hey there, ‘Redheads… The streak continues. Two days, two blogs. For now, it’s only coincidence. Tomorrow it’ll be a trend. Or, by tomorrow, I’ll be a mega-millionaire and washing down my Faberge egg omelet with Dom Perignon out of a Ming vase. That’s right, the Mega Millions jackpot is up to a whopping 330 million smackeroos. I’ve got five dollars worth of false hope that says I’ll be doing the Scrooge McDuck back stroke. How can I be so sure? Ancient Chinese secret. I’m playing my fortune cookie numbers. Numbers that have failed me in the past, but they were merely biding their time, waiting for the jackpot to reach a level where I can live comfortably once Uncle Sam takes his cut. Yesterday, I ate at an Asian fusion restaurant. It was just Asian food, but the place was nuclear powered. But I digress, because I can. It’s my blog. With a fortune like this, how can I fail?

The big question everyone is asking themselves is, “What will you do with the money?” For some, the answer is charity. For others, the answer is family. Not me. I’m going to buy an eye patch and hire some henchmen, because I’ve been itching to be someone’s arch nemesis and all I’ve lacked is the funding. If I do win the money, I’ll tell you one thing I won’t do. Play in a 3-4 defense. Albert was right, that’s for suckers. Until I’m catapulted to a higher tax bracket, I’ll stay huddled among the tired masses who feel the universe owes us a cosmic solid.

Hey hey, ‘Redheads… Long time, no type…what else is new? Actually, I only recently awakened from my Thanksgiving food coma. I hope everyone had a trytophantastic Turkey Day. We had turducken at our feast. For those unfamiliar, that’s a turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed with a chicken. If you ever get the chance to eat an animal with two other animals stuffed into it, treat yourself. It’s as delicious as a triple murder gets. But, hardly an excuse to keep you guys waiting two weeks for another helping of this corn and tripe casserole.

Big news for all of you who’ve been clamoring to see me live on a local stage. I got word today that I’ve been asked back to open for Good For The Jews at The Birchmere. The show is Sunday, the 21st, the first night of Hanukkah. Click the links to get an idea of what you’re in for. Let’s light this menorah…

Once again, I’ve started the cycle of frittering away five bucks worth of false hope on the ever growing lottery jackpot. In these tough times, it’s just about as reliable as the stock market. I think it’s somewhere in the neighborhood of 200 million smackers. I’ve gone with my usual fortune cookie numbers. And they hit. Five dollars worth of tickets won me seven bucks. I’m in the black and I’m letting it ride. Here’s hoping I’ll be having my manservant, Punjab, type the next installment while I dictate to him from atop a pile of money and hookers.

I took in some college b-ball last week at the BB&T Classic and watched the Terps knock George Washington’s wooden teeth down their throat in a 30 point blowout. One of the sponsors of the night’s game was the U.S. Navy, who’s logo flashed up on the jumbotron with the slogan: Defending freedom for 200 years. Does the Navy need a slogan? It’s not like they’re selling something…if we don’t like what they’re selling, we’re not going to take our business elsewhere. Here are some other completely unnecessary slogans…

Food: What’s in your mouth?Oxygen: It’s in every breath you take.Gravity: Keeping you grounded.

I had a pretty funny conversation with one of my co-workers the other day. He wanted to know what I thought of some of the new movies that had come out on DVD. The talk turned to the recent Indiana Jones opus. Some of you readers may remember I had some pretty strong opinions about that flick. You can click on the link for the long version (scroll down), but I told him that I thought it was a badly told story with a bunch of rehashed chase scenes. I qualified it with, “but this is coming from a guy who considers the first three classics.” To which he replied, “Well, you’re talking to a guy who saw White Chicks twice…” Touche.

Hey hey, ‘Redheads… I hope everyone had a funday Sunday. I just got back from seeing Iron Man at the Uptown. This movie was great. There was nothing that usually detracts from my enjoyment of a super-hero origin story. The action didn’t suffer for exposition’s sake, but they didn’t cut corners on character development either, there wasn’t an over-reliance on CGI effects, and the flick is genuinely funny in spots. A hoot. Geeks will want to make sure they stay to the very end of the credits for a fun treat.

So, we’re four days into May and I’ve already surpassed my blog load from April. I’m getting this one in just under the wire to keep my daily streak alive. Thanks to everyone who has given these a gander and offered some constructive feedback. I got some good ideas from comedy buddy, Mike Shader (there’s your shout out…go google), that I’ll share with you…

On your Jesus fish joke. The idea that some people who put a Jesus fish sticker on their car then decide that they can drive more like an asshole is a funny concept. I would not state it that the car “always has a Jesus sticker” since that’s just not true but maybe make it into a classic Jared math joke. 5 cars out of 100 have Jesus fish stickers on them. Out of 100 cars that cut me off 10 of them have the sticker. Jesus is clearly a bad influence on people’s driving habits. Or maybe there were caveats to his message “though shall be kind to others and respect their space…. unless its rush hour on the beltway and you are late for work… then cut the Jew off!”

Thanks Mike. That’s one to grow on.

Ok, time now for the fourth installment of…JOKE/BIT/PREMISE/TAG-A-DAY IN MAY

The lottery has crept back up to the triple-digit millions, so in the interest of financial planning, I’ll be dropping a five spot on the American dream of obscene wealth without having to do anything. I think I have a shot this time. I’m going to steer the odds in my favor. I’m going to get a job at a meat recycling plant in Kenosha, Wisconsin. Then, me and the gals in the secretary pool will all put in a dollar and play the numbers of our grand-children’s birthdays. I have to promise myself the when I win, I won’t quit my job at the plant. It’s a lead-pipe lock. The only thing that might stymie my plans is I’m not 65, but you’re only as old as you feel…besides, my Wii fitness evaluation thinks I’m 71.